


Day 13: Power out (storm)/Fae

by WatermelonTuesdays



Series: Sheith Monster Fuckers 2019 [13]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 100 Girls AU (If anyone remembers that movie), Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Anal Sex, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Fae Keith (Voltron), First Time, Frankenstein Shiro, Intimacy, M/M, Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), Sex in the Dark, Size Difference, Size Kink, Top Shiro (Voltron), keith has a potty mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 13:57:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21016904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatermelonTuesdays/pseuds/WatermelonTuesdays
Summary: Keith and Shiro are neighbours who get stuck in an elevator during a power outage. They get to know each other real well in the dark. Real well.





	Day 13: Power out (storm)/Fae

**Author's Note:**

> I mixed prompts again, because why the fuck not? Though, let's be real, Frankenstein Shiro is the real hero here! ^-^

“Uh… 6, please?” A hesitant voice asks from behind a load of laundry piled high over the man’s head – not an inconsiderable feat considering he’s easily 7 feet tall.

“Sure.” Keith presses the buttons for 6 and 10 and lifts his own laundry basket into his arms. 

The elevator doors slide shut, and the elevator jerks and bumps as it takes off.

“Piece of shit,” Keith complains. He says it mostly to himself, but it’s loud enough for the other man to hear so the man hums his agreement.

“I’d take the stairs, but last time I left a trail of underwear leading all the way to my door,” the man says. His voice wavers like he’s nervous, and he speaks in that fast-paced way people get when they’re not used to having someone who’ll listen. 

But he picked a bad target with Keith, because Keith just grunts and turns his attention to the numbers counting each floor as they rise. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the soft ding as they pass from 2nd to 3rd floor. 

“It seems like quite the storm out there, huh? It’s really coming down out there.” 

Keith’s passive response is interrupted before it began by the lights flickering off and on.

“Don’t you fucking-” Keith starts. The lights blink twice more and then they stay off. “-Dare.” 

The elevator shudders to a violent stop, nearly knocking Keith to the floor. 

“Cock.” Keith curses and throws his laundry basket down to the floor. “And I don’t even have my phone. Do you have yours?”

“Uhhh…” there’s some rustling from the corner where the big man hides, “no, sorry. It must be up in my room.”

“Perfect. _God_dammit.” He fumbles for the control panel. There’s supposed to be an emergency light on it that shines red, but it’s burnt out. Or maybe it’s dead too. 

He claws at the panel, trying to open the little door at the bottom, but he can’t.

“Hey, big guy. You got strong hands?”

“What? I uh… I don’t know…”

Keith takes a deep breath, taking some of the edge of anger out of his voice. “The phone’s behind this little door thing. I can feel it, but I can’t get it open. Think you can?”

“I can try.” 

There’s more shuffling as the man puts his laundry down carefully and drags his feet over to Keith at the control panel. He bumps against Keith lightly and immediately jumps back, apologizing.

Keith rolls his eyes, but says nothing, and takes the giant by the arm and smacks his hand against the panel. 

“Feel here?”

“Ye-eah? Yes?”

“Open it.”

The man’s hands are huge compared to Keith’s. They absolutely dwarf his, Keith can tell just by that quick feel. He opens the door in seconds and hands Keith the phone.

“Dead. Of course.” Keith slams the phone back down. He groans, angry and loud enough you might as well call it a yell. “This _fucking_ building! I can’t believe I pay to goddamn live in this crap pile. Ugh!” 

He hears the man shuffle back to his corner and cower there, away from Keith’s anger. Good. He should run.

Keith steps up to the door and tries to pry it open. He tries with all his strength, but to no avail. So, he kicks it again. It hurts, but it makes his anger feel a little better, so he kicks it twice more for good measure. 

Then Keith punches the door, and that was a mistake! 

“Cock sucker!” he cries, stepping back from the door and leaning against the side wall. There’s no magic he can try that would work. None that he knows, anyway. He’s pretty useless as a half-breed without his potions and elixirs. “You wanna try?”

Keith kisses his fist and listens to the sound of the big man shuffling once more. He grips the metal doors and pulls hard. He even makes that “huhh” breathless noise people make when they lift something heavy. The metal doors groan from the strain but stay closed. 

“Beautiful. Looks like we’re stuck here.” 

“Looks like,” the man agrees. 

He’s so soft spoken, nothing at all like Keith. Keith doesn’t know how they’re going to get through this, trapped in this broken-down death trap, with no cell phones and no way to let anyone know they’re in here. 

“Do you think someone will find us?” the man asks from his corner. 

“No idea. Nobody knows I’m here. You?”

There’s a shifting noise that Keith assumes to mean the man’s shaking his head. 

“Hmm?” Keith prods. He can’t read minds. Well… not without the proper elixirs. 

“No. I live alone.”

“Perfect. And they said this storm will be going till midday tomorrow.” Keith bites back another curse and kicks at the wall in frustration. 

They fall into silence, standing awkwardly in the dark, confined space. After a while, Keith hears the shy man rustling around in his corner, and then the elevator shifts and there’s a soft thud. 

“What are you doing?”

“Oh. Uhh… I just sat down.”

It’s not a bad idea, so Keith slides his back along the wall and sits down too. He kicks his legs out in front of him and feels his slippers knock against the long legs of the guy. They jerk away quickly, and there’s more shuffling as the man rearranges himself.

He’s so timid, it’s actually almost hilarious. 

Keith knocks his head back against the wall and takes a few calming breaths. There’s no point in stewing in rage if they’re going to be there a while. Besides, the absolute darkness is calming.

“What’s your name?”

The big man startles at the sudden question, and Keith hears him bang his head against the wall

“Sh-Shiro.” 

“Keith.”

“Keith,” Shiro repeats softly. “Nice to meet you.”

Keith grunts. There’s a moment of silence and then Keith hears Shiro shift again.

“Oh… nevermind…”

“What?”

It takes Shiro a long moment to answer and when he does, he sounds embarrassed. “I held out my hand, but you can’t see that. It’s stupid.”

“Can you see?” It hadn’t even occurred to Keith, but it would make sense. Some creatures, like vampires, can see perfectly in the pitch darkness.

“N-no. That’s why it’s stupid.” Keith can practically hear the man’s blush of embarrassment. 

“S’not stupid. Here.” Keith leans forward and reaches out blindly. “Gimme your hand.”

It takes them a few tries to connect, Keith swinging his hands through the dark before he finally lands on the solid muscle of Shiro’s huge arms. He follows the line of Shiro’s arm and clasps their hands together in a firm shake. 

He notices the raised edges the line Shiro’s arms and ring his fingers but doesn’t say anything. It’s not his business. “Nice to meet you, too.” 

Shiro makes a small, breathy noise that Keith associates with smiling, and it makes him smile back, into the darkness. 

Shiro’s hand is _big_. Not that Keith didn’t already know that, but he can hardly wrap his fingers around Shiro’s palm for this shake.

Unconsciously, Keith relaxes. When he pulls his hand back, he reorganizes himself, moving just a fraction closer into Shiro’s space. 

“So, what do you do, Shiro?”

“For work?”

Keith shrugs. “Yeah, or just for fun, or whatever. We’re stuck here together; we might as well get to know each other.” 

“I’m a research analyst for NASA. I mostly work from home, tied to my desk all day, reviewing star charts and computer data to try and figure out what’s out there. And in my spare time, I mostly watch space and nature documentaries.”

Keith shifts a little closer. “Wow. You’re a big nerd, huh?” 

It sounds more like a compliment than an insult, and it’s enough to make Shiro laugh. Shiro’s voice is deep but timid, and his laugh is rich and smooth as butter. “I guess so,” he agrees. “What about you?”

Keith leans on one arm, tilting himself further into Shiro’s space. “I’m a mechanic in my uncle’s shop. We’re good with machines. Guess it kind of runs in the family.”

“And for fun?” Shiro prompts when it becomes clear Keith’s done talking.

Keith shrugs, a natural defense mechanism, even if Shiro can’t see it. “I like to ride my bike. Go to the gym.” He pauses to try and think of something interesting that he does. He can’t think of a single thing. “I don’t really know what I do outside of work. Just chill, I guess.” He laughs and it sounds self-conscious. 

He feels suddenly vulnerable in the dark, like he has nowhere to hide. 

“What, uh… what kind of bike do you ride?” 

Keith perks up at the distraction from his inner thoughts. “It’s an old fire bike. It was my dad’s. Technically, I’m not allowed to have it since I’m not a firefighter, so I had to change the paint job on it a bit, and I’ve fixed up the engine so it runs mostly on electricity in the city. But once I get out on the open road, she switches to gas and she _flies!_”

“I didn’t think they made hybrid engines for bikes yet. I thought the first ones were still in the testing phase with Kawasaki?” 

“They are. This is something I cooked up just for Red – my bike.” Though he knows it won’t do any good, Keith squints into the darkness, trying to get a look at Shiro. “Do you ride?”

“No!” Shiro says explosively, “I’ve never. But the science behind bike engines is fascinating. I’ve read quite a bit about it.”

“I bet you have,” Keith can’t help the smirk that catches at the corner of his lips. “Have you ever been on a bike at all?”

“No,” Shiro sounds wistful this time. 

“That’s a shame. I bet you’d love it. Wind in your hair, the purr of the engine in your ears, and the freedom to go anywhere you want.”

“Sounds amazing,” Shiro says softly. There’s a hint of longing in his voice that Keith picks up on.

“We could go for a ride sometime. Though, I might need to reinforce Red to handle a big guy like you.” The thought has Keith slipping a little closer again, until his knee touches against Shiro’s. 

Shiro shifts out of the way again, but after a moment, he settles his leg back down against Keith’s: a single point of contact.

Shiro equivocates on the offer to take a ride, neither accepting nor refusing, so Keith doesn’t force the issue. He understands equivocation better than most, and how sometimes it’s a survival tactic.

They begin to chat in earnest after that. Despite the fact that Shiro is an absolute nerd, they find quite a bit in common. Shiro is honest-to-god fascinating. He knows so much about so many different things! His voice also loses its characteristic shyness when he starts talking about something he’s interested in, and it’s music to Keith’s ears. 

He sounds strong and confident when he talks about the stars, or anything science-related, really. 

“You should have a podcast,” Keith interrupts Shiro somewhere in the middle of an explanation on binary systems.

“Wh-what?” Shiro stutters, and Keith imagines him to be bright red.

They’ve shifted close enough during their conversation that Keith hardly has to reach to put a soft, encouraging hand over Shiro’s arm. “You should! You have a really good voice, and you’re crazy knowledgeable. I bet people would love to listen to you explain space to them.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

Keith squeezes lightly at Shiro’s arm, and it feels warm and solid under his hand. “I do. You should think about it.”

“Ok…” Shiro doesn’t sound sure, so Keith gives his arm another reassuring squeeze, and then settles back against the wall. 

The interruption broke the train of their conversation and they fall back into silence. 

They’d been sitting for at least an hour, by this point, and now that the conversation’s died the seconds seemed to tick by like hours. The floor of the elevator is cold, hard tile, and though it has warmed marginally under Keith, it doesn’t get any softer. He shifts his position, folding his legs off to the side, but that makes his hip dig into the floor, so a few minutes later he shifts again.

Shortly after, Shiro shifts, and then Keith shifts again. Then they both shift.

Finally, Keith makes a grumbly, exasperated noise and swings about wildly in search of his laundry basket. “Fuck it,” he says, digging through to the bottom to the folded towels. 

“What…?”

“If we’re going to be stuck here, we might as well be comfy.” 

The elevator fills with the smell of clean laundry as Keith piles his towels into a makeshift lounger, stuffed with shirts and sweaters for comfort. Beside him, he hears Shiro get up on his knees and do the same. 

Shiro’s laundry smells a little different. It’s a good smell, and it carries just a hint of Shiro along with the fabric softener smell. It’s nice. 

“Much better,” Keith sighs, relaxing back in his laundry. 

Shiro hums in agreement, though Keith can hear him still riffling around in his clothes, trying to make it perfect. When Shiro settles, they are much closer than before, almost touching. They’re close enough that Keith can feel the warmth radiating from Shiro’s arm and it makes him notice for the first time how cool it is in the elevator. 

“How long do you think we’ll be here?”

Keith groans. “No idea. But it looks like the emergency backup generator is out of commission, or else the emergency lights would be on in here.” The thought of it fills Keith with impotent anger again, and he grumbles low in his throat. “Fuck. We’re going to be stuck here all night,” Keith moans. Then he stops, and registers what he just said. “_Fuck_. We’re _actually_ going to be here all night.”

“Hmm?” Shiro asks.

“I’m half-fae,” Keith explains. “I can’t lie. We are going to be stuck here all the goddamn night. What a bag of dicks this turned out to be.”

“I… I didn’t know it worked like that.”

Keith shrugs, not that Shiro can see it. But maybe he can feel it. “Yeah, not all the time, and not for all of us. But there’s some things, when I say them, I know they’re true.”

“Huh.” Shiro thinks about it for a second. “Neat.”

The simple way Shiro says it knocks the anger out of Keith in an instant, and he snorts out a laugh instead. “Sure.” 

“So, you can’t say any lie? Like…. 2 plus 2 equals 6?”

“Nope.”

Shiro hums contemplatively, like he’s trying to work out a problem. Keith imagines his face – whatever it looks like – is scrunched up tight as he thinks it through. “That hardly seems fair for school. Couldn’t you just cheat on any math test?”

He asks it so seriously; it strikes Keith as particularly ridiculous and he can’t help but double over with laughter. It takes him a few minutes before he calms enough to actually answer.

When Keith sits back up, he realizes he had grabbed Shiro’s knee in his mirth. He takes his hand back, but he doesn’t exactly do it quickly, letting his hand linger and squeeze at the large, muscular appendage for a moment.

“It only works if I say it out loud, and you’re not allowed to talk during tests. Besides, when the teacher asks if you understand the concepts you can’t lie and say you do. They’d catch any cheating pretty quick if I said I didn’t understand one day and then passed the test the next day.”

“That’s fascinating! So, you can write a lie?” Shiro sounds so thrilled it’s almost flattering. 

Granted, most people are intrigued by Keith’s gifts – that’s why he doesn’t go around advertising them – but there’s something so naively excited in Shiro’s voice that endears Keith.

“I can write any lie I like. I just can’t say one.”

“Wow! Can… can I see? Or, hear, I guess… Would that be ok?”

“Sure. What do you want me to say?”

“Uhh…” Shiro draws out the sound as he wracks his brain. “Say… say the sky is green?”

Keith smiles. That’s everyone’s favourite. “The sky is g… g…. grr… grrr….grr-blue.”

“_Wow!_”

Keith smiles. It’s not usually that dramatic, usually the truth just slips naturally off his tongue, but he’s not against putting on a bit of a show for Shiro. It’s even worth the light headache that starts to pound behind his eyes from trying to lie. 

“You’re amazing!”

It sounds so sincere that Keith can’t help but blush. Really, it’s not anything special, Keith’s entire family is the same. He says as much, and their conversation quickly devolves to talking about Keith’s family and his childhood shenanigans. 

Shiro doesn’t offer much by way of childhood memories or family life, but Keith remembers the raised lines of scar tissue under his fingers when he touched Shiro before, so he doesn’t push.

They spend the next several hours in conversation. They talk about literally anything and everything. They talk at length about their day-to-day lives, and Keith’s work as a mechanic. They talk about Shiro’s favourite pastimes and interesting things he’s learned. They talk about politics briefly and debate on the perfect way to scramble eggs. Keith tells Shiro all about the dog he had growing up, and even opens up a bit about his father’s sudden death, back when he was still too young to really understand what had happened.

The darkness between them facilitates their conversation. At once it hides and exposes their emotions, and it makes it easy to place their trust in each other. Their proximity makes it doubly intimate.

Eventually, Shiro opens up a bit about himself. He talks about how he didn’t really have a childhood, or parents, or any caretakers. He doesn’t give specifics, but he says enough for Keith to put the pieces together himself.

It had been unavoidable 10 years ago; it was so talked about. A crazed doctor, making life out of grown and stolen parts, building an army for an evil madman. ‘The Children of Kerberos’ they were called – the pets of the underworld. Those who could be rehabilitated had been – the rest were still being argued over in the court system, trying to find a place for them. 

No wonder Shiro was so shy, with that insanity behind him. 

Their conversation turns light again after that. Shiro starts to talk about the cosmos, and he makes it more interesting than Keith has ever heard before. 

His voice is deep and animated as he speaks. It must be getting late by this point, and Keith doesn’t think twice before leaning his head down on Shiro’s arm. He only reaches about mid-way up Shiro’s arm, but there’s enough muscle and warm skin to still be comfortable. 

Shiro’s story about the mythical origins of the names of Jupiter’s moons is momentarily de-railed when Keith drops his head. It only takes him a moment to get back into the groove, however. 

The warmth radiating off Shiro makes Keith’s other side seem particularly cold in comparison, so he slips his arms around Shiro’s, hugging the warm man close with a simple “you’re warm,” as explanation. 

Shiro’s voice wavers around an “ok” before he gets back into his story. His voice lowers a little as he resumes his lesson, like he’s expecting Keith to drop off to sleep any moment.

Keith has no such plans. He’s far too awake. 

In fact, he feels a little jazzed to be holding Shiro. Though they’re strangers, they’re already very comfortable with each other, and Keith realizes that Shiro now knows things about Keith that he’s never told to anyone else before. Stranger still: he doesn’t hate it. 

His fingers trail back and forth along Shiro’s forearm as Shiro explains the backstory of another moon named after Zeus’s lovers. The story is a pleasant background noise. Keith listens to it, but now his attention is a little more focused on Shiro’s arm.

It’s huge! Keith tries to wrap his fingers around Shiro’s wrist, but he needs two hands to do it. And then Shiro’s hand is a whole other story.

Keith runs his fingers over Shiro’s palm, spreading out his fingers. His own hand is nearly half the size of Shiro’s. His fingers are thick, and his hands are surprisingly soft. They’re not calloused at all like Keith’s, or any of Keith’s uncles’. 

It’s absolutely fascinating. Keith draws down from the tips of Shiro’s fingers and back into his palm, trying to map out the lines of his hand in the dark.

There’s scar tissue there, too, and raised ridges from where he was sewn together. It rings each finger and his wrist. 

“Uhh… Keith?” Shiro asks, breathless and shy, as Keith traces his finger along the width of Shiro’s wrist.

Keith hadn’t even noticed Shiro had stopped talking!

“Hmm?” Keith turns to Shiro, letting his cheek rub against Shiro’s arm, looking up into the darkness as if he can see Shiro’s expression.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Keith shrugs, and shifts a little so that he’s facing Shiro a little better, though he doesn’t pull back any, keeping contact with Shiro’s arm at all times. 

“Your hands are big,” Keith murmurs. He smooths his hand along the inseam of Shiro’s forearm, stopping briefly to touch at the crook of his elbow where the skin is a degree warmer, before moving up Shiro’s thick biceps. “All of you is big,” he says, like he’s in a daze. There’s another line of scar tissue about halfway up, circumferencing Shiro’s arm. Keith tries to wrap his hand around it, but his hand is woefully small. He can’t even reach halfway around. Both hands wouldn’t make it around.

Keith feels significantly warmer at the thought.

“Maybe you’re just too small?” Shiro whispers. It’s his first attempt at flirting, and it’s not great, but Keith hums encouragingly.

Keith nuzzles against Shiro’s arm and reaches higher. He follows the line of Shiro’s arm up, then traces over his collarbone and up past the bolts on his neck until he can fit his palm along the curve of Shiro’s jaw.

It’s square and clean cut, with only the barest prickle of stubble against Keith’s palm. He surges up, and he has to lift all the way up to his knees, steadying himself with his other hand on Shiro’s shoulders, to try and get close to Shiro’s height just sitting down.

“Not _too_ small, I don’t think.” His thumb brushes over Shiro’s cheek once, twice, and then his fingers go searching in the dark. He finds Shiro’s ear and tests the give of that soft spot just behind it. Then he digs into Shiro’s short hair, feeling the strong lines of his neck, and running his palm through the silky strands of hair.

Shiro breathes out heavily, almost a moan, when Keith fists in his hair and gives a gentle tug, tilting Shiro’s head to the side.

Keith’s other hand stays steady on Shiro’s shoulder, folding the muscle lightly in his palm, and running his thumb in small concentric circles. 

Keith can feel Shiro’s arm twitch at his side, like he’s dying to touch Keith in return, but too scared.

“You can touch me, too,” Keith whispers, his lips almost brushing Shiro’s chin.

Shiro’s release of breath is almost as overwhelming as the feeling of his large hand engulfing Keith’s waist in a single touch.

“You’re so small,” Shiro murmurs, and he squeezes lightly at Keith’s sides, showing him exactly how far his hand covers. 

“Fuck,” Keith breathes. “How are you real?” He leans closer so that his chest is pressed against Shiro’s side, and immediately his hips rock forward of their own accord. Shiro’s hand holds him steady and close. His other hand swings around to touch at Keith’s ear and then play with his long strands of hair, wrapping them around fat fingers again and again.

Keith’s hand moves back down to Shiro’s neck and then rubs over his chest, feeling the curves of strong muscle. He can feel the lines of scar tissue along Shiro’s chest through his shirt. The places where he was cracked open and made human.

“Fuck,” Keith says again. He digs his fingers into the muscle for a moment, then his hand rushes up to clasp Shiro at the back of the neck.

Keith swings his leg over Shiro’s and pulls himself into Shiro’s lap. In the same movement, he pulls Shiro down to meet him. 

Their noses bump, and it takes a moment for Keith to line them up in the dark. But once his lips find Shiro’s, instinct takes over. 

Shiro’s lips are wide, and a little dry, but they soften quickly under Keith’s. They kiss long and lingering, again and again. With each smack of their lips, Keith pries Shiro’s open a little more, until their kisses turn open-mouthed and wet. 

Shiro makes a deep, rumbling noise of happiness as their kisses deepen, and Keith can feel the vibration through his entire chest.

His knees don’t exactly touch the ground anymore. They’re spread too wide over Shiro’s lap, but Shiro is solid enough to give Keith plenty of ground to work with. His hips keep a gentle rocking place. Not enough to go anywhere, just a natural instinct due to their proximity. 

Shiro’s hand moves up Keith’s back, spanning most of Keith’s shoulders, and his other secures itself back down on Keith’s waist. He holds Keith tight. Tight and warm, wrapped up in muscles: just what Keith likes. 

Keith lifts himself up, high as he can in Shiro’s lap, and deepens the kiss further, licking into Shiro’s mouth and tempting Shiro’s tongue out to play. He puts a hand to Shiro’s arm and follows it down, reaching behind himself to cover the back of Shiro’s hand with his own. Then he pushes Shiro’s hand down to grip at Keith’s ass.

Shiro’s hands are so big, he has no choice but to slide a thick finger between Keith’s legs while the rest of his hand squeezes around Keith’s hips.   
Keith keens and leans back into the touch. 

He pulls back from Shiro’s kiss with a wet smack. “Mmm, yes, Shiro. Touch me.” 

He noses along Shiro’s cheek and drops random kisses along his jaw. He drops lower and licks around the bolt in Shiro’s neck. He settles his hands over Shiro’s chest again and kneads gently, like a cat in heat. The fabric of Shiro’s shirt folds and wrinkles under Keith’s hands.

“Can I touch you?” Keith asks, plucking at Shiro’s shirt. “Can I take this off?”

Shiro’s “yes” is low and heavy with desire. It makes Keith shudder and fuels his growing need. 

He paws the shirt up and they work together to get it over Shiro’s head and down his arms before it’s lost to the darkness that surrounds them. Keith loses his own shirt a moment later, flinging it away as if it offended him. 

When Shiro’s giant, soft hands return to Keith’s skin he hums a long note of pleasure. He’s so soft against Keith, and so big. 

“You feel good, Shiro,” Keith says, his fingers pawing through the surprisingly hairy chest before him. He leans forward again, nuzzling against Shiro’s chin with his forehead this time, while his lips seek out Shiro’s neck. His fingers search through Shiro’s short curls for his nipples.

It’s serendipitous how Keith finds Shiro’s pulse at the same moment he finds his nipples, and the moan he gets as a result of his discoveries is gratifying. 

Shiro’s hand returns to Keith’s ass, but this time he holds Keith more surely. The fingers that fold between Shiro’s legs hold him firmly, and his palm massages Keith’s cheek. All of Shiro holds Keith close, and then closer. 

Keith can feel something hot growing beneath him, and he knows Shiro must feel Keith’s erection pressed against his stomach. 

“I want you, Shiro.” Keith punctuates the sentiment with a nip over Shiro’s pulse and a squeeze to his nipples. “I want you, bad.”

“K-eith, I…” Shiro moans, unable to speak. His head leans back against the wall and rolls from one side to the other.

“I think you want me, too,” Keith says smugly. He spreads his legs as wide as he can, so that his weight drops over the thick heat beneath him.   
Shiro groans. 

Keith leans back in Shiro’s arms, focusing his weight more on that one particular spot. One hand grips Shiro’s shoulder for stability, but the other remains buried in his chest hair, teasing him.

“You’re so big. I bet you feel amazing buried deep inside me.” Shiro groans again, ending almost on a whine. “I bet you reach parts of me no one’s ever touched.”

Keith’s already starting to make a mess in his pants, but leaning back is giving him a little room to breathe. That breathing room just shows him more clearly how much he wants to do to Shiro.

Shiro grabs at Keith and pulls him tight to his chest. His fingers tangle into Keith’s hair and he seals their lips together in a wet kiss. Keith hums into the kiss.

When he pulls back, he tilts his neck and Shiro follows the curve of Keith’s jaw, leaving a wet trail of spit until his big lips fit over Keith’s neck. He kisses are delicate but wet, and his tongue is strong enough that it pulls a moan out of Keith with each slow circle. 

Keith clings to Shiro, encouraging him with his tight embrace and never-stopping hips. 

“Goddamn, Shiro. Yes. That’s so good, just like that. Oh, yess…”

Shiro grips tighter on Keith’s ass, his fingers wiggling tight between Keith’s legs. 

“Christ! Yes, touch me just like that.” Shiro does it again, and Keith has to grab Shiro’s head and slam their mouths ungracefully back together. “Fuck, Shiro. Touch me. Fuck my pants, just touch me.”

Shiro only hesitates for a moment before his hand pulls away and slips under the waistband of Keith’s laundry-day sweatpants. 

“Fuck. Yes. Shiro, yes. Just a little more,” Keith says around their sloppy kisses. “Just a bit – that’s it!” Keith shudders as a fat finger lands on his asshole and rubs him gently. “Oh, fuck, you’d better fuck me, Shiro.”

“I want to,” Shiro finally says, his voice breathless and wet from their kisses. His lips don’t leave Keith’s skin, and he speaks directly against Keith’s cheek. “B-but I don’t want to hurt you.”

Keith pauses for a moment, overwhelmed by Shiro’s gentleness. He’s got a heart that outsizes all the rest of him; that’s for damn sure!

When Keith resumes, he’s churning in Shiro’s lap with far more intent than before. “You can’t hurt me. I promise.”

His fingers claw lightly at Shiro’s arms as his hips circle and grind down against him. “Now, let me up so I can get these pants off.”

Shiro’s fingers trail Keith’s body as he slowly lets go, touching Keith like he never wants to part. 

Keith has possibly never taken his pants off so fast in his life. Then he helps Shiro pull his own down. They only make it to Shiro’s ankles before Keith is pushing him back against the wall and crawling into his lap.

Keith lets his fingers map out Shiro’s sides, feeling the smooth skin and even cuts of his making. He leans forward and presses kisses randomly over Shiro’s stomach, his fingers dancing lower and lower. He rubs over Shiro’s hips and the joining where torso becomes legs. 

Keith can’t help but hold his breath as he searches out Shiro’s cock. He can feel Shiro doing the same, his chest freezing under Keith’s lips. 

They both hiss – Shiro in pleasure and Keith in delight – as Keith’s hands wrap around Shiro tight and slowly gauge his length by pumping him all the way to the tip. Shiro is just as huge as Keith expected; still, the reality is overwhelming. Keith is sure there’s stars in his eyes.

“Fuck, baby. I’m going to fuck you so good,” he whispers into Shiro’s nipple before lapping at it hungrily. 

Shiro whines. One of Shiro’s bear-paw hands secures Keith’s head in place while the other digs into the meat of Keith’s back. 

“That feel good, big boy?” Keith asks, pumping long and slow again. 

Shiro wiggles under Keith and makes a whimpering noise.

“No one’s… not ever…” Shiro manages. He sounds ready to bust already.

“Shh,” Keith soothes, stretching up to rest cheek-to-cheek against Shiro. “Guess I’ll just have to take extra special care of you then, huh? Big boy.”

Shiro groans and his grip over Keith’s back flexes. “Please. Keith…”

Keith shushes the big man again and releases his cock from his tight grip. “Just breathe, Shiro.” He crawls closer, returning to their easy grinding so that Shiro doesn’t overload too soon. 

He takes Shiro’s hands and places them on either side of Keith’s hips. 

They fully encircle him, his fingers linked at Keith’s spine, and his thumbs almost touching as they rub over Keith’s abdomen. Keith has to force himself not to think about it too much as he arches backward and reaches to spread himself.

It won’t take long. He’s already so horny he’s feeling nice a loose: one of the perks of the fae is easy prep and the half-breed is forever grateful that it is one of the traits he inherited. Keith is pretty well always ready to throw down at the drop of a hat. 

Apparently, the proof of Keith’s small frame in Shiro’s hands has reminded the big man exactly how fragile Keith appears.

“Are you sure about this?” Shiro asks, worry overriding the desire in his voice. “You’re so small. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m sure,” Keith says firmly. He grinds his hips down over Shiro as proof and slips another finger inside himself. “You’ve heard that stereotype that all fae are horny fuckers?” Keith asks.

“Yeah…”

“Well, this is why.” Keith gives himself a perfunctory stretch on three fingers, lines himself up on Shiro’s massive cock, and sinks down with a happy sigh. 

“_Fuck!_ Keith!” It’s the first Keith’s heard Shiro swear, and he grins like a Cheshire cat at the sound. Shiro’s hands tighten around Keith and hold him in place like he’s never going to let Keith leave.

Keith chuckles, and rather than fight the grip, he stays down and circles his hips, grinding Shiro’s fat cock inside him. He clenches down around Shiro and it pleased to note the shiver that runs through Shiro’s entire body at the sensation. 

“Keith!” He sounds punch-drunk. 

“Yes, Shiro?” Keith asks. He plucks at one of Shiro’s hands and it moves easily, giving Keith the room to lift himself high as he can and drop back down onto Shiro’s waiting cock. “Here. Touch me here, baby.” 

He places Shiro’s hand on his chest, rubbing Shiro’s thumb over his nipple so that Shiro gets the hint. Shiro pinches at Keith’s nipple and Keith praises him for it. 

In the meanwhile, Keith sets a tortuous pace over Shiro, lifting high, dropping fast, and grinding low. It wrecks them both quickly, but without tipping them over the edge too soon. 

“Kiss me,” Keith says. It comes out more like a request than a demand, but Shiro jumps to follow it like it was a command. 

His lips pry Keith’s open just like Keith did to him earlier, and his large tongue dances playfully with Keith’s. 

“Touch me,” Keith moans into Shiro’s mouth. He wants to feel those big hands over him. 

Shiro runs his hands over Keith’s ribs and squeezes at Keith’s ass, helping lift him up and slam him down over Shiro’s cock with extra force that makes them both shout. He rubs his thumbs in circles over Keith’s nipples and sucks giant hickeys onto Keith’s neck. 

Though it’s still dark as anything, Keith feels like he can almost see Shiro. Like the awareness of his own body has extended to Shiro through their coupling. He knows exactly where Shiro’s mouth is in relation to his own, and his gentle hands, and all of the rest of him.

Keith’s hips speed up as he gets closer. His breath comes in great, panting gasps now, and try as he might he can’t kiss Shiro even if he wants too. Shiro seems to understand, he’s in a similar position himself, and he seems content to bury his face in Keith’s hair and pant there. 

Keith doesn’t even know what his hands are doing (clinging to Shiro’s shoulders and digging his nails in with each pass Shiro makes over Keith’s prostate) until he starts to slide one hand down the length of Shiro’s massive arm. He takes Shiro’s hand and guides it over his body. He leads Shiro between his legs, and at first Shiro thinks Keith is asking him to grip his leaking erection.

His entire hand takes up the entire length of Keith’s dick, and he holds him so tight, with that soft skin. Keith yelps and has to push his hand away quickly or else he’s going to blow that very second.

“No,” Keith says. His voice sounds spaced out, like he’s high, but he’s just high on Shiro. “Not yet. Don’t want to cum yet. Here, touch here.” He guides Shiro’s hand to his taint and moves Shiro in a small circle until he gets it.

Shiro learns quick, and presses Keith exactly where he wants it with firm pressure.

“Christ! _Yesss_ Shiro! Perfect. You’re perfect,” Keith cries, arching his back with pleasure. Shiro follows him as Keith arches away and starts biting and sucking at Keith’s chest. “Fuck! Fuck, Shiro, that’s good. Yes!” 

Keith moves Shiro’s other hand to his ass and starts to speed his pace again. “Help me. Fuck me, Shiro.”

Shiro doesn’t need to be told twice. He wraps his hands around Keith’s thighs, lifting and slamming Keith down with easy strength. 

“Are you close, baby?” Keith asks. His fingers card through Shiro’s hair as Shiro starts making brutal, guttural noises, his hips starting to move and meet Keith on the downslide. 

“So close…” Shiro says through gritted teeth. His hands grip that much tighter around Keith.

“Good.” Keith drops a hand between them and starts to fuck his own cock with all the urgency that’s pounding through his body. 

The first pulses of Keith’s orgasm strangle a responding orgasm out of Shiro, and they ride each other through it with wild abandon. 

When it’s done, Keith finds himself curled in Shiro’s lap, his head against Shiro’s chest and both hands balled in fists over his pecs. Shiro’s still half-hard inside him and falling fast. They’re both sweating and panting, and Keith can feel the warm slide of his cum dripping from his cock onto Shiro’s stomach. 

They’re an absolute mess, but Keith gives it another second before he reaches into the dark for something soft to wipe them down. 

“Fuck,” Keith says softly to himself as he wipes blindly at Shiro’s abs. “I didn’t even ask if you’re gay.” There’s a moment of horror as Keith thinks maybe he just fucked a straight guy.

“Well, obviously I’m at least a little gay after this,” Shiro says happily.

Something about that strikes them as incredibly funny, and they fall together, holding each other through the giggles. 

Once they’re cleaned up, they paw through the clothes to find something to cover them. They will, eventually, be found and it might be best if their junk’s not out when it happens. Though there’s no way to hide the reality of what they did: the moment those elevator doors open, the smell of sex is going to be unmistakable. But Keith doesn’t give a rat’s ass about that right now. 

They re-form their clothes pile into something they both can share and lie down close together. They hug, ostensibly for warmth, but really Keith just wants to be in Shiro’s arms a little longer. He really likes it there.

He likes it even more with Shiro starts to pet through his long hair.

“You swear a lot,” Shiro comments out of nowhere.

“I do,” Keith agrees. “Is that a problem?” An unfamiliar anxiety starts to dance in Keith’s stomach at the thought.

“No. I kind of like it.”

Shiro’s soft admission is instant relief over the butterflies in Keith’s stomach. He turns in Shiro’s arms and rubs his cheek against the arm he’s using as a pillow. “I liked it when you swore. It was unexpectedly very hot.” Keith stops to think, “Actually, this whole night has been unexpectedly hot. You’re very hot.”

Shiro doesn’t answer right away, and the silence between them churns and turns contemplative, maybe even solemn, though Keith has no idea why or how. He’s about to address it when Shiro finally says, softly, “You know… I’m actually glad the lights are off.” The small voice Shiro uses doesn’t suit the big man. And Keith really doesn’t like the way Shiro pulls away and sits up, distancing himself from Keith. “If you could see me, you’d see how ugly I am, and then maybe you wouldn’t be so nice to me.”

The soft admission cuts Keith through to his very soul. 

He doesn’t think, he just reaches out to Shiro. He sits up on his knees; his fingers bump against Shiro’s chest, and he fumbles to hold Shiro’s face between his hands, but once he does, he leans in and presses their foreheads together. He tries to convey the sincerity of his feelings through his touch.

“Oh, Shiro. You’re not ugly.” His thumbs circle over Shiro’s cheeks. “You’re a big, green, softie, and you’re _not_ ugly.” 

Honestly, the green part surprises Keith; he has no idea Shiro is green until he said it, but he accepts it without question. 

“Really?”

The next pass of Keith’s thumbs picks up tears, and it makes him press himself further into Shiro’s warm chest. 

“Really. I can’t lie, remember?”

Strong arms wrap around Keith, and Shiro buries his face into the crook of Keith’s neck. Keith just holds him while he cries, making soft, soothing noises, and running fingers through Shiro’s hair and along his back. 

Slowly, they shift together until they are laying together, with Shiro’s heavy, comforting weight pinning Keith into their laundry pile. Keith keeps a tight grip over Shiro until sleep overcomes the gentle giant. Keith falls asleep not long after.

Keith wakes up feeling stiff, sore, and cold. The hum of the elevator vibrates through his entire body, and the lights beam down on him. He stretches and blinks, feeling uncomfortable. He can feel a pair of eyes on him that does not help his growing sense of unease.

He whips around to find a woman standing by the control panel in full winter gear. A child stands at her side, half-shielded by the woman’s body, and her grip over the kid’s arm says that she’s trying to keep the kid from looking or asking questions.

Keith looks down at himself. He’s wearing only backwards underwear and half-covered by a towel. A bruising large handprint is very visible over his left hip where the towel fell away. His hair is likely an absolute mess, and he’s probably got a few nasty looking hickeys. He’s lying beside his overturned laundry basket and he was using his own underwear as a pillow. It’s not a cute look.

Blearily, he rubs at his face.

Shiro is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Shiro’s laundry. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Keith says to himself.

“Ex_cuse_ me?” the woman asks, all attitude. Which – Keith can’t really blame her for.

“How long has the power been back?”

“‘Bout a hour.”

“Thanks.” The doors ding for ground floor and the woman ushers the child out of the elevator. “Can you hit 6 for me?”

She hits 6 and rushes out of the machine while Keith pulls himself to his feet and shoves his clothes back into his basket, making sure the soiled t-shirt he used to wipe them down stays on top. It’ll probably all have to be re-washed anyway, but still. 

The elevator opens on the 6th floor and Keith steps out: a man on a mission.

He’s pulled on yesterday’s sweatpants and run his fingers through his hair, but still he looks absolutely wild. 

He looks around and immediately realizes he had no idea which door is Shiro’s, so he starts at the first nearest the elevator and keeps knocking on doors until he finds him.

When the door finally opens on a massive, 7 foot, green, dreamboat, Keith pushes his way through the door before Shiro has a chance to say anything. He shuts and locks the door behind himself, ready to blast through all of Shiro’s reservations and doubts. 

“You don’t fucking get to give me the goddamn night of my _life_ and just run off back to hide in your fucking apartment, Shiro.” Keith says in a rush, watching as Shiro’s eyes (which are grey, turns out, and very pretty) widen with shock.

“Keith?!”

“Kiss me, Shiro,” Keith says.

That’s all the heads up he gives before he launches himself up into Shiro’s arms, climbing him like a tree so he can press their lips together.

“I’m not leaving till you’re mine,” Keith says, wrapping his arms tight around Shiro’s neck. 

“Ok,” Shiro pants, returning the kiss with passion, his hands already wrapped around Keith’s small body and holding him close. “Ok.”

**Author's Note:**

> It physically hurt me not to Canadian-ize this and have Shiro say “She’s really blowing out there, eh?” at the beginning. I compensated by having Keith swear nearly as much as I do. Nearly.
> 
> Does anyone remember the movie 100 Girls? This fic is 1000% based off that movie. It’s not a great movie, but man I watched that religiously when it came out. Katherine Heigl as a butch lesbian? Yes please! *French chef kiss*
> 
> I feel like Shiro is a little OOC in this fic, but I also feel like that's how he would be in a world where he was built entirely by Haggar, and his first experience of people was the news story breaking and having his face an story blown all over the papers. I got way more into the world building in this fic than I meant to, but still ended up leaving some of those details out. But, like was crazy for Shiro when he was first released from Haggar’s labs, and he basically had to pick himself up from nothing. He doesn’t know any of his “brothers and sisters” from the labs, so he mostly avoids the news stories about the ones who couldn’t be rehabilitated (ones like Sendak). 
> 
> So today is probably going to mark the last of my updates that are actually on time. I'm gonna TRY my best, but it's not likely to happen. I am stuck on the next prompt, I didn't get any writing done yesterday from a migraine, tomorrow my sister and I fly out for a week long vacation and there won't be much time for writing... But stick around because I do plan on finishing all the prompts! It just might take me into November. And I might be able to get the prompt out for the 15th on time if I can make up my mind on the orgy fic I wrote.
> 
> Also, I keep thanking you guys for your comments but you've been ABSOLUTELY amazing!!! I've gotten like, I think more than 40 amazing comments in the last 13 days of this event! It feels SO NICE guys! AHHHH!! I love you all so much! 
> 
> Twitter: [@WTuesdays](https://twitter.com/WTuesdays)  
Tumblr: [WatermelonTuesdays](https://watermelontuesdays.tumblr.com/)


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